


Just give me all your mind (I've got a surprise)

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5 Things, 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Birthday, Blow Jobs, F/M, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, only part 5 is actually explicit, so you could just skip "30" if you don't want the porn lol, the rest are a solid G-T, there's nothing in that section OTHER than porn so you'll be good if you do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26169325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: Five of Patrick's birthdays we don't see in the show, and one we do.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Patrick Brewer/Rachel
Comments: 42
Kudos: 252





	Just give me all your mind (I've got a surprise)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roguebaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguebaby/gifts).



> The happiest of happy birthdays to the lovely Amy! Sorry it's a tiny bit late, I didn't knooooooooooow. I hope you've had a day as wonderful as you are! 💞 
> 
> (Also, just very quietly, I have now **published** 200,000 words in the Schitt's Creek fandom. Since, um, April 21st. Do I need a hobby?)
> 
> Title is from Destiny's Child.

**~10~**

“Happy birthday, champ!”

Patrick runs up to his dad, who scoops him up into the air and spins him carefully around the living room before groaning theatrically, dropping him quickly to the floor.

“Oh, buddy, you’re so big! Double digits, I can barely carry you anymore!”

Patrick is torn between laughing and rolling his eyes; he settles for a sort of frustrated groan that just makes his dad laugh even harder.

“Far too grownup for your old man’s jokes now, huh? That’s okay, I’m sure all your friends will still think I’m funny when they come over this—” he claps his hand over his mouth, looking horrified.

Patrick feels a weird, swooping sensation in his stomach even though he also kind of wants to laugh. He loves being part of a surprise but his dad isn’t very good at keeping them; he found out about his surprise party last year when his dad said something about picking Grandma Brewer up from the airport, and his dad accidentally told his mom about the spa day he and Patrick planned for her for Mother’s Day. 

It’s okay, though. He’s going to have his friends over, and his parents tried to do something nice for him. That’s way more important than a silly surprise party. 

**~15~**

“Happy birthday, Patrick!”

“Hey Brewer, I hear it’s your birthday!”

“Yo, Brewski! Happy birthday, man!”

Patrick accepts the well-wishes with a series of awkward grins as he hurries through the crowded hall to his locker. He’s far closer to late than he’s comfortable with but his dad had insisted on cooking a full breakfast this morning in celebration, and now he only has a couple of minutes to grab his math textbook before the bell rings. 

When he reaches his locker, though, he stops short. Rachel is leaning against it, her face transforming from pensive to a nervous smile when she sees him, something shiny in her hand as she pushes herself up off the locker to stand up straight. 

“Rachel, what are you doing here?” he blurts out before biting his lip, worrying if that was rude. They’ve known each other for a while, and he likes her — she’s sharp and funny and quick-witted — but they’ve never spent any time together outside of their friend group. 

“A little bird told me it was your birthday,” she says with a small grin, “and I wanted to give you something.” She thrusts her hands forward, pressing the soft parcel she’s holding into his own. 

“Oh, thanks, Rachel,” he says in surprise. “Aren’t you coming tonight, though? I don’t want to get you in trouble for missing class.” The girls’ school isn’t far down the road, but Patrick’s pretty sure they start class at the same time. 

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she says quickly. “I have French this morning, and I already speak it pretty well. It’s not a big deal for me to come down here and say  _ Bonne fête,  _ Patrick.” A light blush spreads across her cheeks as she says this, and Patrick wonders if maybe she’s worried that she sounds like she’s showing off or something. 

_ “Merci, _ Rachel,” he says with a grin. “Can I open this now?”

She shrugs casually, but her eyes are hopeful. “Only if you want.”

He glances down at the package in his hands before carefully peeling off the tape. He recognises the Leafs colours straight away and he unfolds what turns out to be a jersey, the  _ thank you _ on the tip of his tongue before he turns it around to look at the back and his breath catches in his throat. 

Not only is it a Mats Sundin jersey, but it’s  _ signed. _ Patrick’s mouth drops open as he stares at the seemingly innocuous squiggle in the top of the 3 part of the 13 and he’s sure he’s gaping like an idiot as he drags his gaze back up to Rachel, who is watching him intently.

“How did you—”

“It’s really not a big deal,” she says quickly. “He’s actually a family friend, he was happy to give me one when I told him I have a friend who talks about him, like, an embarrassing amount.” She punctuates this with a smirk, but Patrick is too blown away by the gift to care that he’s being teased. 

“Thank you, Rach,” he says softly. “This is amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” she says just as the bell rings, making them both jump; Patrick could swear there’s a flash of disappointment on her face but if there was, it’s gone in an instant. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Looking forward to it.”

**~20~**

_ “Bonne fête,  _ Patrick.”

_ “Merci, _ Rachel.” It’s a running joke at this point; a little slice of their long history together, even if it took them nearly a month after Patrick’s fifteenth birthday to actually start dating.

Rachel stayed over in his dorm room last night and now she’s standing by the bed, an envelope in her hands. She hands it to Patrick with a sweet smile and leans down to kiss him before straightening up again. She watches as he tears the envelope open, and two tickets fall out into his hand.

“The Leafs are playing the Jets here in a few weeks,” she says in a rush. “Away game for the Leafs, of course, so you might want to hide your jersey on the way over, but—” 

“Rach, this is awesome,” he says sincerely. “Thank you. God, now I just need to figure out who to take.”

Disappointment flickers over her face, so quickly it wouldn’t be noticeable if he hadn’t known her so long. “Oh. Sure.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she says, almost too brightly. “It’s your gift, you should choose how you want to use it. I just thought… maybe we could go together.”

“But you hate hockey,” Patrick blurts out before he can stop himself. Rachel looks hurt and Patrick feels a sudden urge to apologise even though he wasn’t saying it to be mean; Rachel comes to every baseball game he plays, decked out in his team colours and screaming herself hoarse, but she hasn’t watched him play hockey since high school. It’s not like Patrick minds; he likes that they’re not one of those couples that have to hang off each other every second of the day.

“I don’t hate hockey.” When Patrick just looks at her in disbelief, she sinks down to sit on the bed; he shuffles his legs to accommodate her. “Patrick, I  _ like _ hockey. I just don’t want to watch  _ you _ play hockey anymore, not after…” she trails off, and Patrick is bewildered for five long seconds before he finally remembers the last game she’d attended. It was the time he got into a pretty brutal fight with one of the players from Oak Ridge; he’d carried the bruises for weeks.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want to be one of those girlfriends who tells their boyfriend what to do.”

Patrick bites his lip. He wants to argue with her, but… he knows he’s a people-pleaser, sometimes to his own detriment. If she’d asked him to stop playing hockey, he might have.

He leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Rach,” he says sweetly, “will you please come with me to watch us trounce the Jets?”

She grins widely at him. “It would be my honour.” 

**~25~**

It’s 9pm. Patrick is drunk, and he misses Rachel.

It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve been broken up — they’ve gone round and round like this for years — but it’s the first time they’ve been broken up on his birthday and he’s surprised by how much it hurts. The guys have been great, dragging him out to this bar tonight, buying him rounds and keeping the conversation deliberately light, but the truth is he keeps expecting to feel Rachel’s hand brushing along his lower back as he leans over the table to say something. 

He can’t even remember what they broke up over this time, which is the worst part. It was something stupid and petty, he’s sure, which is… he’s a grown adult, he can’t just throw in the towel every time things get slightly hard. Relationships go through rough patches. That’s all this is.

Before he can second-guess himself, he pulls out his phone and reads back over Rachel’s message from this morning before he starts to type.

Rachel 💛  
  
**Today** 8:43 AM  
**Rachel:** Bonne fête Patrick  
  
**Rachel:** I hope you have a nice day  
  
**Patrick:** Merci, Rach.  
  
**Today** 9:12 PM  
**Patrick:** imids you  
  
**Patrick:** muss yoi  
  
**Patrick:** rghrwnfklq  
  
**Patrick:** I. Miss. You.  
  
**Rachel:** Drinks going well then?  
  
**Patrick:** 🍻🍻🥃🥃  
  
**Rachel:** Wow, four emojis. You are having a fun night.  
  
**Patrick:** i mesn it rach i miss u  
  
**Rachel:** Let's talk in the morning, okay? Want to get breakfast?  
  
**Patrick:** yed  
  
**Patrick:** wait  
  
**Patrick:** Henry has shpts  
  
**Patrick:** Bettee make it brunch  
  
**Rachel:** Okay, Patrick. We can have brunch.  
  
**Patrick:** Thanka  
  
**Patrick:** ido miss you  
  
**Read** 9:57 PM

**~30~**

Patrick is dreaming about David sucking his dick.

He knows it’s a dream because in his dream it’s morning, and David Rose is many wonderful things but he is not a morning person. And yes, Patrick occasionally misses morning sex, but the sex he has with David at every other time of the day is so immeasurably better than any morning sex (or any sex) he’s had previously that he really can’t bring himself to mind. So he lets himself dream about David’s mouth on him as the morning sun spreads warm over the bed until he can feel heat curling low in his belly, and then he starts to panic — maybe this is like dreaming about Niagara Falls and waking up with a soaked mattress, and thirty is frankly far too old to be having wet dreams. When he snaps his eyes open, though, he can still feel lips wrapped around him, a wet tongue running gently along the underside of his cock; when he looks down he can’t see anything but a lump under the blankets, moving steadily up and down and something about the visual — or lack thereof — sends a deep fondness for David rushing through him even as he can feel himself barrelling closer to orgasm.

He has to shove the heel of his hand into his mouth to muffle the sound when he comes, trying to thrust up into David’s mouth as he does so but David holds him down with one deceptively strong hand on his thigh. David keeps him in his mouth until he softens before finally releasing him, kissing his way slowly up Patrick’s torso before his head finally pops out from under the covers, hair wildly askew and face split in a smug grin.

“Morning, birthday boy,” he says softly, and Patrick smiles at him as he cards a finger through his hair.

“What a way to wake up,” he says before adding with a grin: “Definitely in my top three birthday mornings.”

David lets loose a squawk of outrage. “Top  _ three? _ I set an  _ alarm. _ What could possibly have beaten out a birthday blowjob?”

Patrick lets his grin spread into a full-blown smirk. “I don’t know, one year my mom let me eat birthday cake as breakfast in bed. That was pretty amazing.”

David’s face is a sight to behold. “Okay, with all due respect to your mother, I’d like to think my deepthroating skills rank a  _ little _ higher than cake.”

Patrick winces. “If I move you up the rankings, will you promise to never mention my mother and deepthroating in the same sentence again?”

“Mm, we might be able to come to some arrangement.”

“Oh, I think I can sweeten the pot.” He tugs at David until he flops down on his back next to him, and then leans over him with a grin. “Besides, I can think of a few things I’d rather have in my mouth in bed.”

David groans and grins, all at once. “You’re terrible,” he says softly, and Patrick is just leaning down to kiss him when the door bursts open.

“Happy birthday, Patrick!” Ray cries out, and Patrick can see his frustration reflected on David’s face at the interruption. “Now, I’ve made pancakes, and there are also strawberries — from your store, of course — and some whipped cream, for a nice birthday treat.”

“Thanks, Ray,” Patrick says tightly. “I don’t know if—”

“We’ll be right down,” David says over the top of him. When Patrick raises his eyebrows in disbelief he adds, so low only Patrick can hear him, “I’ve been awake for a while. I need  _ sustenance.” _

“Great!” Ray says. “Door open or closed?”

“Closed!” 

**~31~**

The café is empty, the music is playing softly in the background, and David is transferring crab cakes into one container and fretting loudly about how many were left over. Patrick thinks he should be helping but he can’t tear his eyes away from David, his heart so full of joy and relief and love for the man in front of him he doesn’t know what to do with it all.

No matter what Stevie might imply sometimes, he’s not blind to David’s faults. He knows his boyfriend can sometimes be selfish and stubborn and difficult — but he also knows when that when it comes down to it, when it really matters, David will do absolutely anything for the people he loves, no matter what it costs him to do so. Alexis gets it; Patrick thinks she might be the only one who truly understands, even though they’ve only ever talked around it. She wouldn’t be surprised, he thinks, if she’d heard David say  _ I could be just your business partner, _ if she’d seen the way he’d gone rushing over to the motel this afternoon — to hear his mom tell it, willing to protect Patrick from anyone, even his own parents.

Patrick is going to marry him.

Somehow the thought is both a shock and the most obvious realisation in the world. Because yes, he’s known for a long time that every possible version of his future is one with David in it, but it’s always been a little bit nebulous. 

Not anymore. Now he just has to come up with a ring and a proposal worthy of David Rose.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/).


End file.
